


Ephemeral

by notjustmom



Series: Words, Words, Words [170]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Johnlock Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-27 16:10:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6291136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ephemeral: adjective: i-ˈfem-rəl, -ˈfēm-; -ˈfe-mə-, -ˈfē-: lasting a very short time</p><p>Greek ephēmeros lasting a day, daily, from epi- + hēmera day</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ephemeral

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Silvergirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silvergirl/gifts).



> as requested ;)

John woke to silence and sunlight streaming through the curtains, and reached across the bed, not surprised to find it empty of one consulting detective. "Damn...I knew it...stupid...ah well...I don't even have work today...great, maybe there's a case..."

He dragged himself out of bed, showered and tried to forget last night even happened:

"Bored, John...I'm bored..."

"No."

"Please?"

"Absolutely not...I'm not giving you my gun and under no circumstances are we playing Cluedo, Monopoly or anything with a board and rules. Go get dressed and let's go eat, or I'll eat and you can deduce people who pass by?"

Of course he had worn the purple (aubergine, John) shirt, and that black suit...

"Boys!" Angelo bellowed. "When are you two gonna settle down?"

"He's not..."

"We're just frien-"

"Righhht...your table, always available, sit, go sit-your regular, Dr. John? Wine, tonight?"

"Yes and no."

John made his way through a salad, stuffed shells and half a tiramisu, Sherlock somehow ate the other half as he deduced three could be serial killers, and a professor of philosophy with a trust fund and an extra family..."clothes at least five years old, but has an antique pocket watch he keeps pulling out to check the time, and I've seen him use two different phones (both this year's model) in the time we've been here, he's made excuses to both partners in order to check into a hotel so he can actually sleep for once..."

John laughed and Sherlock glanced at him.

"What?"

"You should laugh more."

"Huh?"

"I want to figure out what makes you happy."

John blinked and looked into Sherlock's eyes. "Why..."

"Because I love you."

"What did Angelo put in the tiramisu tonight?"

"I've known for a while..."

"But-"

"Just thought you should know."

"Oh."

They had said their good nights to Angelo and made their way back to Baker Street. John cautiously touched Sherlock's hand, and sighed as he felt his fingers become entwined. They didn't speak until Sherlock had shut the door and hung up his coat and scarf.

"I, uhm...love you too."

"I know."

"Of course you do."

"We don't have to, uhm, do anything, if you don't want to."

"Do you want to?"

"Yes, John."

"May I kiss you, then?"

Sherlock nodded, and John placed one hand in his curls, the other on his lower back, and he paused before he looked up to find Sherlock's eyes had closed, his lips gently parted and he could feel both of their hearts racing. He pulled Sherlock's head lower and felt sparks as their lips met.

"Damn." He felt Sherlock smile against his mouth, and he laughed.

"Yes, John, yes...bed...please?"

 

John had known, it was too easy, too perfect, to be anything other than an experiment, he had known it was an ephemeral thing, Sherlock didn't do relationships...not his 'area'...stupid...at least they got that out of their system...bacon...? why do I smell bacon...

"Oh, good, you're up, love-I knew we were out of toast and milk, so I just popped out to the shops and figured I'd make breakfast, I just put the kettle on." He kissed John's cheek then popped back out the door.

What the hell was that?

He took a deep breath, then walked up to his bedroom to get dressed, and tried to reorganize his thoughts. He went into the kitchen to find Sherlock cooking him a Full English, even...

"Yeah, I even remembered the beans."

"You don't forget anything, do you." John whispered, mostly under his breath.

"Not when it comes to you...and, by the way, I, uhm, tend to be monogamous...so..."

"Me too...."

"Your-"

"Dates? I haven't had a date since the one that didn't have a dog..."

"Jeanette?"

"Yeah, that one..."

"But, that was..."

"Over six months ago, yeah."

"Oh. So, you really want this...last night wasn't just a..."

"...one off...no, I hope it wasn't?"

Sherlock laughed and turned from the stove, finally facing him. "Good, that's good, wasn't quite sure what to expect when I got home. Was a bit afraid you would be gone, my pillow talk isn't my strong suit, and thought just watching you sleep would have been a bit not good..."

"So, you went to the shops?"

"I do know where they are-"

"Really?"

"Arse. Drink your tea before it gets cold."

"Yes, love."


End file.
